milliways_bar | (no subject)

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teja

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OOM: The World We Live In.

Fury is out back doing sit-ups. Rather more specifically he's got his legs hooked over a tree-branch and is doing sit-ups from that position, curling up toward the sky until crossed arms touch his knees and then relaxing until his head is again pointed at the ground. His sword is hung within easy reach of him, and there are several knives strapped to visible portions of his body.

He has a modern shirt draped near his sword, as purple as his armor, but his boots and trews are proper garments for a man of his time and place. He only wears modern clothing when he must.

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"All right so far," Freeman answers. "Door's still not working, so I was going for target practice. Yourself?"

"Keeping myself ready." Fury says with a thin smile, "For whatever may come next. The young lady has acquired a name, that was a good thing to hear. Is your acquaintance settling in well?"

"Alyx? Yes," says Gordon. "She's visiting someone else's Earth at the moment, or there'd be introductions."

There's almost- almost- a smile at the thought. Alyx tends to provoke that kind of response even by proxy. Gordon's just used to keeping an impassive face more often than not.

Fury notices that smile and laughs. It's not an unkind laugh, at all. "I look forward to them, Master Freeman, when the opportunity comes."

Ah, well, should've expected that. Gordon nods. "Worst comes to worst, it'll happen the day the door opens," he says. "How've things been on your end?"

He didn't get where he is by being slow on the uptake, no. "This is true. Things have been slow, but it is not an ill thing. I have taken the time to catch up on my histories.

"As well I have found that they have named our little trio."

"Is that so?" Up goes one eyebrow. "This should be interesting."

'Enemies of the state' is too generic, and totalitarianism doesn't necessarily equal communism, so 'counter-revolutionaries' isn't likely to be on the list either.

"Anti-Citizens." Fury says with amusement, "In consideration of the fact that two of us are not even from the appropriate world seems rather more apt than they intended."

"...."

Has Fury ever heard Freeman laugh before? Well, he still hasn't- but that's a heck of an amused snort that finally comes out of him.

"That's two worlds, now."

"A title you have born before? I suppose that Anti-Citizen One is slightly better than The Man In The Orange Suit?"

Another snort, this one even closer to laughter. "That's exactly what the Combine public announcement system in City 17 calls me," he says. "They don't like using my name because people've turned it into a title, or something. I don't know."

It occurs to him, briefly, to wonder what his mother the judge would think. Of course, Barbara Freeman wouldn't've put up with a ruler like Breen for any longer than it took to construct the most scathing letter of resignation possible, so.

"They call Rojhaz The Alleged Captain America." Fury agrees, "They are not certain what to call me."

It amuses him. A lot.

"Trouble," Gordon suggests.

What? It's true.

All Fury has is laughter at that. "Perhaps so, Master Freeman, perhaps so!"

"If we're lucky, anyway. And good at it." Freeman shakes his head, but he's smiling just a little. "Did you want a round or two with either of these, by the way? Just to get a feel for them?"

He's well aware that he's not the only one with a freakishly instinctive knack for guns, but it's courteous to offer.

"Of course." Fury says, the predatory edge to his nature coming further out. It's never really gone. "I thank you."

"You're welcome," says Gordon. "Your pick. Shotguns're a little more common, but the rifle's an energy weapon. Doubt you'll have seen one of those in action before."

"Let us begin with what may be found on Earth 420." Fury says after a moment, "The shotgun."

"Right."

Gordon passes Fury the gun before they head out towards the actual range.

"Twelve gauge semiautomatic pump action shotgun. Fires standard buckshot shells, one or two at a time; maximum capacity is six shells. Lousy accuracy at any kind of range, but it'll make a big mess of a human-sized target whether they're armored or not."

"Hmm." Fury says, looking it over carefully as they walk, "Not unlike those of my time, then, in accuracy and shot."

"Hard to improve on the basic design. The ones we had at Black Mesa could hold up to eight shells at once, but that was about the only way they differed."

"This is true." Fury says, smiling just a bit, "It still serves as a good place to begin."

Gordon nods. "One good shot- maybe two- will take down an antlion," he says. "They're difficult to take down with anything less."

"Hmm." Fury nods and sights in, "Are we like to face them?"

"I don't think they're likely to show up inside the city limits," Gordon says, "but if the door opens onto anywhere between the Nova Prospekt prison and City 17, we're going to have to fight our way through a lot of them."

He'll start prepping the pulse rifle now himself. This kind of thing is why he likes to have two guns on hand. It keeps him busy.